The Healing Powers of Mint Chocolate Chip
by chanvrerie
Summary: It's mint chocolate chip," he interrupted, grabbing his spoon. "Your favorite. Eat it. Trust me."


Tony Stark was a saint. Or he was, if they broadened the definition of the word to mean a man who had once drank enough scotch to drown the ocean and slept with enough women to make up the population of Rhode Island and who now not only left the women alone and the alcohol untouched, but also flew away in his alter-ego's giant metal suit to repair the damage he had unintentionally caused in the world.

It was because of this newfound (or rather, found-five-months-ago-after-said-saint-was-held-captive-in-a-cold-cave-in-Afghanistan) sainthood that Pepper found him alone the morning she came to work late with red-rimmed eyes and hair not quite as smoothed down as she normally preferred. She still smiled, though, coffee in hand, as she watched her boss bent over what appeared to be- well, she had no idea what it was. But she knew he was working because he wanted to work, because he enjoyed the work, not because he was holed up in the basement trying to avoid the clueless, nameless girl still dozing blissfully in his bed. Pepper wondered briefly why Tony did not give her grief about being late before deciding she would rather he didn't anyway and filing it away somewhere in her brain while she rattled off his schedule for the day.

He said nothing more than a quick "Thank you, Ms. Potts," when he smiled at her and took his coffee before allowing himself to again be absorbed in his work. Perhaps it was because Pepper had too much on her mind, or maybe she just wasn't paying attention, but she somehow missed the way Tony set down whatever device he was tinkering with the second she turned away, the look of concern in his eyes as she climbed back up the stairs, and finally the thoughtful and determined expression that crossed his features as she shut the door and headed, shivering, to her office.

Pepper Potts was never one to enjoy the cold. It was difficult for her to dress in the appropriate professional attire in the middle of winter when all she really wanted was to curl up on the sofa in five layers of flannel with coffee and a book. Granted, it did not get particularly cold in Malibu- didn't even snow that much- but Tony had always ribbed Pepper mercilessly about the way she was never without jacket, even in the high temperatures of summer. Today was one of those days, cold, dreary, and miserable. Especially when it seemed like the weather was just trying to match her mood.

There were over four hundred new emails in Tony's inbox and probably even more phone messages, but Pepper allowed herself just a minute to stare out her window and let a few tears stray down her cheeks. She pulled herself together with a sigh and an internal lecture about how, if Tony bounded up to her office with her looking like this, she wouldn't be able to escape the interrogation and it just wasn't something she really wanted to deal with right now. So she swiped a hand across her eyes, settled a blanket in her lap, and started to work.

She had only been working- if one could call reading and rereading emails with such a lack of focus, "working"- about thirty minutes when she heard a hesitant knock on the door. Pepper blinked. Tony didn't knock. She didn't even think he knew how. But surely enough, at her response, the door swung open and her boss strode in carefully, stopping in front of her desk.

"Come with me," he said bluntly, holding out his hands, a small half-smile on his face. Pepper looked up at him, confused.

"Did you shower?" His hands and arms were completely free of grease and his unruly hair looked a little damp.

Tony lowered his arms and put his hands down on the mountains of paperwork littering her workstation. "Yeah. I try to do that once in a while," he grinned. "Just for you, Pepper. Seriously, come with me." When she hesitated, he sighed, and came around the desk to her chair. Pepper eyed him suspiciously.

"Tony, I'm a little busy, and I'm really not in the mood to-" But Tony ignored her, spinning her chair to face him, removed the blanket, and grabbed her hand.

"Come with me." His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were tender, and, honestly, when had Pepper denied him anything that was in her power to give? Well, except his offers to sleep with her, but those were always half-joking, not to mention, they hadn't been voiced in five months, and this was clearly nothing like that. His thumb was stroking her hand, and he was kneeling on the ground, clearly waiting for her response.

"Okay," she exhaled in surrender, rising to her feet, and pulling Tony up with her. "Why?" But she did not miss the delighted expression that crossed her boss's face and the gentle squeeze he delivered to her hand.

"Because," he shot back, turning away to walk out the door. He released her as he did, and Pepper sighed, immediately missing the extra warmth of his hand, and followed.

He led her down to the sitting room, without another word, and motioned for her to take a seat on the couch, while he disappeared into the kitchen. She heard utensils clinking on granite countertops, and she just sat, a little dazed by the whole situation. Suddenly, all noises stopped, and she saw Tony poke his head out to glance at her. Then he strode over, pulling a blanket off the other end of the couch, and draped it over her shoulders. "Sorry, Pep," he murmured in her ear and then turned back to the kitchen. "Just a minute."

Then came the sounds of drawers opening and closing, followed by another brief moment of silence, after which she heard Tony, voice muffled, call out, "Pep? Where do we keep the bowls?"

Pepper's brain began functioning again and she spoke up, "In the second cabinet to the right of the sink. Tony, what are you doing?"

His voice rang out warmly. "Just- just stay there, Pepper. Almost done."

True to his word, he walked out of the kitchen not two minutes later holding two spoons and a huge white bowl filled to the top with at least three huge scoops of-

"Ice cream? Tony, it's like a billion below!"

His eyebrows hit his hairline and he flashed a smile at her, setting the bowl and spoons on the coffee table, and plopping himself down in the overstuffed chair opposite her position. "Your math astounds me, Ms. Potts," he smirked, "it's not even thirty degrees."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Tony. It's freezing. Seriously, what...?" She let her voice trail off as Tony's eyes turned serious.

He reached over to hand her a spoon, then spoke. "Your brother called me earlier to make sure you were okay." Her throat tightened and she tried to look down, but Tony's fingers caught her chin and drew it back up gently. "Pep, where was I last year? Why didn't you tell me?" Then, without warning- as it always was with her boss- she found herself in Tony's arms, her head on his shoulder. And before she knew it, she was sobbing, drenching his shirt, and he was whispering comfort into her ear, rocking her gently.

She calmed down after a few minutes, but Tony kept his arms around her, refusing to let her go. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck and she took in a few deep breaths of his subtle-scented soap, enjoying being wrapped up in his warm embrace, before she spoke.

"I was working in the office," she whispered against his skin and felt Tony's arms tighten, "when I got the call. I'm- I'm not sure where you were. Mom was with my grandmother that day, so she left for home pretty late. A drunk driver ran a red light... She smashed her head and suffered severe internal injuries. The hospital said she never even had a chance. It's been a year, and I'm usually more collected than this, Tony. I just... I miss her."

"I'm so sorry," Tony breathed somewhat guiltily into her hair. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you, Pepper." He held her quietly for a few more minutes before pulling back and examining her face closely. Seemingly satisfied with whatever he had found, he reached over to the table and picked up the bowl, handing it to her with a spoon. She shivered when the cold of the dish hit her skin.

"Tony, honestly-"

"It's mint chocolate chip," he interrupted, grabbing his own spoon. "Your favorite. Eat it. Trust me." His eyes searched hers again, and he positioned them so they were facing each other on the couch, the bowl of slightly melted ice cream in her hands between them. He adjusted the blanket on her shoulders, tucking it in around her arms before sticking his spoon in the bowl for a bite. She did the same, surprised herself by enjoying the cool flavor, and tried to ignore the goose bumps creeping up and down her arms.

"I was seventeen," Tony said softly, his eyes wandering about the room, "just came out of a... a math class, I think. Obadiah called me. All he said was, 'Tony, I'm sorry. But your parents-'" He trailed off for a second before picking the story back up. "Anyway, it was a car accident. And I wasn't really sure what to do. We weren't exactly close, but still. I mean, they were my parents and, since a guy can't cry," he smiled wryly at her snort, meeting her eyes again, "I made a rather shocking display of chucking my cell phone into the nearest wall. My professor came out of the classroom and somehow got the story out of me. Next thing I knew, I was being dragged to the cafeteria in the middle of February- in the middle of a freaking snow storm- for a bowl of ice cream."

Pepper sat quietly, swirling her spoon around the bowl for another bite, completely absorbed in his story- Tony rarely ever talked about his parents, much less the day he learned of their death. "Anyway," he continued, also taking another spoonful, "he told me that sometimes life is completely illogical, unpredictable, like the sudden death of a billionaire and his wife... like," he said, his eyes searching hers, "the death of a beloved mom because of an idiot who broke the rules. And sometimes the only thing to do is to eat ice cream in the middle of a freaking snow storm and stop analyzing because sometimes life makes absolutely no sense, and this is the only thing we can do about it." He paused again, putting his spoon in the bowl, and slowly took her free hand. "Pepper, I'm sorry I didn't notice last year. I can't believe I let you... I was a total- I was a jerk. And I'm sorry. And I know that doesn't help and there's really nothing for me to say to make you feel better-" He was rambling and stumbling over words and more hesitant than Pepper believed he ever was in his life, but he was trying. So she set down her spoon as well, and grasped his hand softly with both of hers.

"Thank you, Tony," she interrupted him, loving the way his expression changed and his smile peeked out shyly.

It was freezing outside and in. Pepper's hands were frozen stiff, both from the cold air and her grasp on the bowl of mint chocolate chip. She had goose bumps absolutely everywhere, and their position was uncomfortable, to say the least. And yet, in a way that was completely illogical, in a way that made absolutely no sense-

"This is perfect."

They did it the next year and the next and every year after that, celebrating and mourning the pure unpredictability of life by getting together- two people, more than a boss and an employee, maybe a little more than friends, a saint and his soul- to sit on the couch, wrapped up in blankets, to eat ice cream in a billion below.


End file.
